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Real Men Wear Pink

Cancer strikes without a word
and does its deadly deed,
Looks down its nose at victims
and laughs as we bleed.
Some fight with courage,
others in shocked silence fall;
This hungry, laughing demon
is menace to all.

“Go not quietly,”
implored poet Thomas:
Though pugilistic receive no silken promise
His words,
“Rage, rage against the dying of the light,”
Should shine as beacon
in long,
pain-filled
darkest
nights.

To my brethren I offer prayers
of loving hope,
Please, dear Lord
give those struggling
strength to help them cope.
At day’s end all are bested
by Angel of Death;
But fight
brothers and sisters,
with your dying breath.